


Path of the stars

by anthiese



Category: Fire Emblem Series, Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: Family Feels, Gen, Implied/Referenced Character Death, Post-Canon, also slight implied rhea/catherine u know how it is
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-02
Updated: 2021-01-02
Packaged: 2021-03-12 15:00:18
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,536
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28512294
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/anthiese/pseuds/anthiese
Summary: “The Blue Sea Star?” Rhea asked. The name was heavy on her tongue.Holy.“Ever the careful watcher,” Mother whispered, and something in her voice spoke of stories yet untold. “Her light will always shine down on Zanado. When your work is done, search for her in the southern sky. She will lead you back home.”Rhea wakes up to find something missing. || Written for the Lost & Found zine!
Comments: 2
Kudos: 14
Collections: Bread Eaters





	Path of the stars

**Author's Note:**

> hey!!!!!!!! nice to be back. hope to get back in the groove soon. SO i had the chance to write for this absolutely amazing zine, so here's a thing for Rhea and her lost item, the faded star chart! it's always nabatean time. slight mentions/implication of anxiety in here, not much but yk tread carefully. happy reading!

The silence of Zanado was absolute. Once the sun sank behind the horizon, each light and sound across the canyon died one by one, until all that was left was the blinking stars above. At the edge of the precipice stood the Goddess, immobile as if she’d been waiting for a lifetime.

As Rhea made her way to her side, she didn’t move, only shifting her gaze from the sky down to her.

“Well?” Mother asked then, crossing her arms.

Rhea exhaled slowly. Even when talking to Mother, the night felt like something sacred, and the sound of her own voice seemed to sully it, but still she spoke.

“I have completed the preparations. We’ll depart before dawn.”

A shade of pride colored Mother’s eyes, and Rhea had to wonder if it was warranted. She pressed her lips together.

“Do you really think…”

Loud and careless, the Goddess laughed. It was enough to inspire in her a bit more confidence.

“I would go myself if it was something you couldn’t handle. You are as capable as they come, as are your siblings.”

“I… I understand. Your trust honors me, Mother.”

“My little Seiros,” Mother sang, “starting to sound like a real grown up.”

It was hard to resist smiling when she used that silly tone, but Rhea still tried. “Please, don’t call me that…”

Mother sighed, an amused look on her face as she glanced up to her.

“You will always be my little one, Rhea—that is a burden you must live with. Though this one time, it will net you something. Hopefully it will help you bear it.”

Her hands disappeared into her pockets, and Rhea watched as she produced a roll of parchment, dark as the sky above.

“I believe you will need this, from now on,” she said, handing it to her. “Have you learned how to read it?”

The parchment felt thin under her fingers, and Rhea unreeled it slowly, careful not to tear it. In her hands was a sheet of a vivid green that seemed to ripple like the waves of the deepest waters she’d seen. Upon it laid a myriad of thin lines of silver, in the shape of the stars and of hundreds of constellations, their names marked in Mother’s fast handwriting.

“A star chart…?” she asked. It was something undeniably familiar, despite the ethereal quality this one possessed. “Cichol did teach me…”

“Excellent.” Mother laid a hand on her shoulder, a finger raised towards the sky. “Eyes wide. Follow this road.”

Rhea complied as best as she could, her gaze darting between the delicate constellations glowing in the parchment and the path Mother was tracing from star to star, until she came to a halt, pointing to a bright spot high above their heads.

“The Blue Sea Star?” Rhea asked. The name was heavy on her tongue.

Holy.

“Ever the careful watcher,” Mother whispered, and something in her voice spoke of stories yet untold. “Her light will always shine down on Zanado. When your work is done, search for her in the southern sky. She will lead you back home.”

The Goddess then gave Rhea her goodbye, a simple nod of her head, before disappearing into the night mist.

★

The morning stole her from her dreams in the blink of an eye, letting those memories fade into warm sunlight. Rhea sat up, her head spinning. She often dreamt of the Goddess, but seldom did she see her mother’s face, her bright eyes—memories of a childhood she’d barely even lived.

The comfort didn’t last, as she focused on the new space before her.

Though months had passed since she’d been freed from the imperial prisons, since the war had ended, it was still difficult to recall the place she stayed in now, unfamiliar as it was: small, scantily furnished, its walls decorated by a collection of elegant weapons. One of many guest rooms at the monastery.

The feeling of emptiness pierced through her chest, sudden and heavy, with the freezing realization of simply how _long_ had passed since the times she’d dreamt about. In a second, she scrambled out of the bed, ignoring the wailing of the still-fresh scars on her body, to check her desk and dig through drawers over drawers and look under the mattresses and…

It was nowhere to be found.

It couldn’t be _gone_ , could it?

The chart was an old thing, a Nabatean artifact made long before Sothis had shared that knowledge with humans, and she’d entrusted it to her and now it was—

A knock. She sat up, knees still on the floor.

“Yes?”

The door swung open, bringing in the fresh breath of morning, and Rhea felt her heart rate slow down. For a moment, Catherine stood in the doorway, eyes wide as if she’d walked into the wrong room— _as if they didn’t share it_ —and she could already hear the words, “Lady Rhea” come out of her mouth, but they never did. Instead the knight shook her head and walked inside, offering a smile and an open hand.

“Morning. Do you need help?”

“I… Good morning,” she replied, taking her hand and standing back up. “I was looking for something. It is fine.”

“Uh. I see.”

Catherine’s eyes narrowed a bit, scanning her face as Rhea held onto her for just a second longer.

“You do look like you’ve slept well,” Catherine moved on, and her face seemed to soften. “When you’re ready, we should head to the mess hall. We’ve a long day ahead…”

Rhea nodded, before finally letting go of her hand. Work always had to come first, but this wasn’t something unfamiliar to her: it was the one thing that had kept her grounded, century after century, following an unyielding routine until she’d grown used to dressing and acting the part, to leave anything else under lock and key.

No, it wasn’t different. This was but a lost item, her own responsibility. She couldn’t let it be different. Yet it was hard to keep herself from checking every corner, as she followed Catherine’s brisk pace through the corridors, and it became harder still as they reached the dining hall—crowded, brimming with life and voices that echoed and bounced from wall to wall.

In any other moment it would’ve been something pleasant to witness, after all the years she’d spent so far from the monastery’s day to day life, but as things were, laughter and happy chatter all merged into a single, horrifying noise that pierced through her ears, screamed for her to run away.

Then a voice cut through the clatter, a spot of pale green waving, calling for them.

“Aunt, Lady Catherine! I have been waiting,” Flayn beamed, gesturing to the two trays on her table. “Lovely to see you.”

“Likewise,” Catherine smiled, as she took her seat. Rhea managed to nod, and let a hand stroke down Flayn’s cheek, stealing a giggle from the girl.

“Truly, I cannot express how happy it makes me that your recovery went well. We haven’t eaten together like this in… oh, so long.” Flayn went on, her eyes like tiny stars, bright with the glimmer of youth. “I hear you’ve both been helping with the restoration of the cathedral? It feels we haven’t been able to cross paths often, and I have been occupied as well—”

Little Flayn’s smile threatened to get to her, as she went on about the flowers she’d been tending to, and Rhea would’ve liked to praise her like she deserved, but thousands of worries kept bubbling through her head. She remembered the day Flayn had been taken, how fruitless her efforts had been to protect her; she remembered the day the Empire had taken her and the day that man had taken Mother; she remembered how she couldn’t even keep safe that last memento she’d been given.

Lost. Likely in battle, torn to pieces and forever erased from history.

“Aunt…?” Flayn called. “Is something on your mind?”

Rhea blinked. Her hand was shaking around the breadknife. She took a deep breath.

“Forgive me, Flayn. I… have lost an old thing. Nothing you should worry about, dear.” She forced a smile, the most reassuring she could manage. “It’s about time we get to work, I think… I will see you later.”

She stood up through what felt like a sea of concerned looks, before heading out of the door, walking fast down the empty bridge until the pain and Catherine reached her. She was still leaning against the cathedral gates, clutching at her side, when the knight finally caught up, blue eyes flowing with worry.

“ _Rhea._ ”

“Catherine,” she said simply, waving a hand. “I believe we’re on duty to the tower. Come.”

There was little room for discussion once she walked into the building, already occupied by knights and volunteers hard at work, and Catherine followed in silence. And the silence lasted, cold to the point of being painful, as Rhea asked Alois where they could make themselves useful, as he led them with the others up the Goddess Tower, as they all worked, moving rock after rock, to clean up the ruin it had become.

And it lasted well into the evening, as the day started to wrap up and the knights headed back to the cathedral, tired and satisfied with their efforts. It lasted until the sun began to fade behind the stone windows, and she was alone with Catherine again.

But it had to break.

“I don’t understand why you’re brushing it off.”

Rhea turned around. Catherine was leaning on a broom, eyes fixed on hers. It was hard to bear, and to lie in front of them. She tried.

“I don’t know what you might be referring to.”

Catherine’s gaze didn’t waver.

“You… spoke of it as something important. The thing you were looking for.”

Rhea looked down to her. There was barely even curiosity in her voice. It was a simple statement—the truth.

“You,” Catherine went on, something sheepish in her tone, “don’t _have_ to tell me if you don’t want to, but… I am here for you. Always.”

 _You shouldn’t be_ , Rhea thought. She shook her head. “I have no right to bother anyone with this. And for now, my duties come first.”

She tore her eyes away, back to the pile of debris at the side of the wall, but before she could touch a single pebble, Catherine’s hand was on her shoulder.

“Duties… This rubble can wait another day, you know.” She smiled. “You’re not the archbishop anymore, you’re a… friend, I’d like to say. And I’d like to help you, as you helped me many times.”

Friend. Something humans hadn’t called her often. Much less often had they been sincere. She closed her eyes, sank down to the floor, as Catherine followed.

“It was a gift from… my mother.”

At the mention, Catherine’s hand closed around hers. Rhea wondered how pitiful she must’ve looked, for her to do something like that, even without knowing the full story—but she didn’t pull away. She brought the hand to her lap, her fingers tracing scars and bruises in the shapes of all the constellations she could find.

“Her star chart. It was old, one of the few things she left behind, and yet I was ungrateful, I broke her trust, and…”

 _And I’ll never find home again,_ she decided not to say out loud.

“That’s ridiculous!” Catherine exclaimed. “I-I mean, I can’t speak for her, of course, but… I don’t see why she’d think that. You’re aware of how important it was, and yet you insist on putting your work first, and that’s… admirable, if way too selfless.”

Her words sounded so simple, so… human. It was difficult, but Rhea wanted to believe them. 

“What do you propose I do…?”

“Get something to eat, for starters?” Catherine shrugged. “You’re still a living being, you know.”

Rhea laughed, despite herself, but she nodded, and the silence enveloped them once more, as they made their way back to the monastery, under the pale, watchful eyes of the stars.

The hall was still lively, even so late at night, but they didn’t have trouble finding a spot. Flayn had saved them a couple seats at her table, where she was chatting with some young clerics, and after a day full of so much worry, the company made for a pleasant dinner.

Rhea had started to get lost in a conversation about the best tea flavors when Seteth appeared on the doorstep, his eyes tired as nobody else’s could be. At the sight, Flayn’s friends bid them goodnight and dispersed, but she sat up on her chair.

“Father!”

There was something about her excitement to be able to call him by that word, without needing to hide, that it brought a smile to Rhea’s face. She gave him a wave—not without feeling a bit childish, but for once she couldn’t find it in her to care.

“Seteth. Have you eaten already?”

His nod was unconvincing, and it didn’t escape Flayn’s eyes.

“Oh, Father. This behavior is—you’re aging, whether you believe it or not, and you have to take better care of yourself… How many more times must I tell you?”

Seteth sighed as he got to unpacking his pile of paperwork over the table, and Catherine muttered a defeated “not on the food”, as Flayn’s reprimand went on. The rest of the hall was equally noisy—by the Goddess, it would take a while getting used to—and yet, somehow Rhea was taken back to the peaceful nights of Zanado, before any of them had left, when life was the laughter around a campfire, the light of the stars above.

Something peaceful, something… simple.

Her brother hummed.

“Rhea. Is this yours?”

Her eyes fell to his hand on the table, still over a single piece of parchment. A deep green shade, faded by time, without taking away from its splendor. Mother’s star chart.

“It was in the library,” Seteth sighed. “Somebody here borrows too much and forgets to give it back.”

Catherine struggled to hold back a laugh, as Flayn gasped, turning to Rhea.

“Is _that_ what you’ve been looking for…? Goodness, I-I meant to—” Her voice cracked. “I am _so_ sorry, I—”

Rhea shook her head, a trembling hand smoothing down Flayn’s hair.

“It is quite alright,” she breathed, as she took the chart from her brother’s hands. “I… I’m happy to have it back. Thank you.”

Seteth nodded, while Catherine tilted her head, amused.

“Ask for help sometimes, will you?”

It would take some time getting used to, but Rhea nodded, her eyes falling over the chart. The Blue Sea Star stared back at her, silent and beautiful.

 _It’s always been here,_ she thought.

Then at her side, Flayn shifted.

“That reminds me, when I took it I meant to ask you,” she muttered, her eyes now brighter, “if it’s not too much trouble, could teach me how to read it…?”

It felt like a scene she’d lived hundreds of times, but it warmed Rhea’s heart all the same.

“Of course,” she smiled. “I can start by showing you the road back home.”

**Author's Note:**

> thank you for reading!! As usual big thanks to Bina and Mel for the beta and support 🥺💞💞💞 ALSO, I AM HIGHLy recommending everyone to check out @lostfoundzine on twitter to see all the wonderful art everyone is sharing!! love you!!


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